Wickedly Dangerous (Baba Yaga, #1)(29)
A blunt head nudged his leg and he looked down in amazement to see Chudo-Yudo sitting at his feet, a beer bottle lightly clenched between alarmingly large white teeth.
“Wow,” he said, taking it carefully from his unusual waiter and prying the top off with his Swiss Army knife. “That’s a very helpful dog.”
Baba just rolled her eyes. “Nice,” she said to the huge white animal. “You’re two for two. Let’s not push our luck, eh?”
As usual, Liam felt like he was missing half the conversation—the half that made sense, at that. So he changed the subject back to the issue that had brought him out here in the first place.
“I hate to bully my patients,” he said, tucking in the ends of the bandage and pushing his hair out of his eyes before starting to wrap her elbow. “But would you like to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to hassle Maya Freeman?”
Baba’s usual bland expression clouded over with the hint of a frown.
“I was hoping to catch her off guard and get her to admit to something,” she confessed. “Not much of a plan, I know. But I thought at least if I said something, she’d know that someone was on to her, and no more children would disappear.”
Liam said through gritted teeth as he packed up the rest of the first aid supplies, “You do realize that if Maya is involved, you have just warned her that you know she is involved, and that will make her much less likely to lead us to the children that have already gone missing.” He didn’t bother to point out that if Maya were really the culprit, Baba might have even put herself in danger; she’d already had a rough enough evening.
Baba sighed and swung her legs up onto the coffee table, her furry footrest having moved off to nap in front of the refrigerator, as if he was afraid that someone would steal something precious out of it while he slept. A slight snore rattled the cupboards.
“I said it wasn’t much of a plan, didn’t I?” She let her head droop back onto the crimson velvet cushion behind her, ebony lashes fluttering down to cover those remarkable eyes. “It is remotely possible that I may have acted a tad hastily. It’s only that I keep thinking about those children . . .”
Liam swallowed back all the retorts that had been about to zip out of his mouth like angry bees. “Yeah. I get that.” He shook his head, forgetting that Baba’s eyes were still closed and she couldn’t see him. Then he had to push that damned hair out of the way again. Any day now, he was going to find time to get it cut. Like when he was applying for another job because he’d been fired from this one.
“You know, you could have waited,” he said, trying not to let his frustration at her lack of faith in him show. After all, they’d just met; how was she to know that he took every lead seriously? Even hers. “I did actually check Ms. Freeman out more thoroughly, and everything looks perfect. No history of trouble with the law, excellent references from her last job—not so much as a parking ticket.”
Baba sat up, grimacing a little, and turned to face him. She leaned in closer, until he could feel the heat coming off her body, and locked eyes with him.
“Sheriff,” she said, her tone level and matter-of-fact. “If you did the same for me, I assure you, all my information would look perfect too. But almost all of it is a lie. Some people have ways of getting around the truth, ways you can’t possibly understand. But you can take my word for it: Maya is not at all what she seems.”
Liam believed her, although that in itself was almost as disturbing as the fact that she’d just admitted to lying to him. “What, so are you saying that you and Maya are both in the CIA, or the Mafia or something?”
Baba leaned back again, that teasing half smile flitting across her lips. “Oh, no, Sheriff, something much worse than that.” For a moment, it almost seemed as though she was going to add something, until the sound of ringing broke the moment and chased the words away.
NINE
BABA HAD TO swallow a laugh at the look of stunned amazement on Liam’s face. He pulled out his phone and gazed at it as though it had been transmuted into a kaleidoscope, or some other completely unexpected object.
“I don’t believe it,” he said, still staring at the ringing object in his palm. “I never get service out here.”
“Must be magic,” Baba said lightly. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
He shook himself and flipped the phone open. She tried without success to follow his half of the conversation, which mostly consisted of variations on, “Yup, uh-huh, that’s great.” Chudo-Yudo roused himself with a dragonish snort and meandered over to find out what was going on, bringing Baba another beer. This one had a sizable chunk missing from the neck, but she nudged it back into place with a finger flick before Liam could notice.
“It’s Bob,” Liam said, pulling the phone away from his ear for a moment. “From the auto shop. I had him go out and pick up your bike.”
Baba bit back a sharp reply. Nobody touched her motorcycle but her. Chudo-Yudo growled softly and she gave him an imperceptible shake of the head. The sheriff meant well, and she could reclaim it in the morning when she was back up to full strength. Or in the middle of the night, if she was really feeling twitchy about it.
Liam continued, blissfully unaware of how close he’d come to getting his ass handed to him on a platter. “Bob says the damage isn’t as bad as it looks. The frame isn’t twisted, and he can mend the front fender, bend the handlebars back into shape, and replace the tire. A decent paint job will take longer, but you should be back on the road in a week or so.” He gave her a broad, white smile, clearly proud of himself.